Until the End of the World
by SilentStardust
Summary: Spencer doesn't know what to think when it first happens, but he soon finds himself in a unique situation as he starts to fall in love with Aaron Hotchner.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter 1

The metro was late the day it all started. Spencer had gotten used to its varied schedule, so the slight delay wasn't too much of a surprise. And, all in all, when he finally stepped through the doors of the BAU he had plenty of time to spare. As usual.

He'd arrived early enough to beat most of his other teammates, who had a penchant of arriving seconds before the clock, displayed prominently on the wall for all to see, clicked over to nine am. Some days, Spencer made it a habit of observing the various ways they would attempt to sneak past the all-knowing eyes of the Unit Chief, Mr. SAIC Hotchner himself.

A quick trip to the break room and a check of his inbox later and Spencer was all ready to start the day. Glancing at the offices located towards the back of the area, he wasn't surprised to see Hotch already hard at work, as well as Rossi. Spencer had come in early enough and often enough to see that yes, Hotch did fully live up to the workaholic rumors that populated the building. In addition, he could see that while Rossi wasn't as much of a playboy as he used to be, he was one hell of a hard worker and one that liked to knock out all the work early, so he could make a quick escape in the afternoon. Eh. They all had their little foibles.

Spencer set himself up at his desk, making sure that he was angled just right as the clock ticked down. Some days it wasn't worth making such an effort, though Morgan always gave an award-winning performance no matter the day, but the girls had gone out on the town last night and Spencer was betting that they would have wicked hangovers from the night before. Spencer eyed the most recent cold case delivered last night. A present from the Archives, no doubt. He never told the others, though no doubt Hotch was well aware, that he often worked cases from other units. When not on an active case he needed a plethora of projects to keep his mind active. Just sitting and reviewing consults as the others did never kept him busy.

Spencer scanned through the reports, idly flipping through photographs of dead women, mutilated with their throats slit open, lying in the leaves. He propped his feet on the desk, subtly giving Hotch's closed office door a glance. Safe. No matter how many years had gone by since those two days, he never could completely shake the feeling every time he viewed a new photo or visited a new crime scene. That it could have been him.

Spencer began his report. Narcissistic personality disorder. Male. Late 30's, early 40s. Throat slit from the front. He wanted to watch them as they died. Highly educated, mid-level….oh, here we go. Spencer smiled a little as he watched Alex Blake edge in the door. She looked absolutely miserable. With her hair in a ponytail, rather than immaculately styled and a complete lack of makeup Blake looked as if she had experienced one long night. Blake had made a rough start with the others, but they had bonded together it seemed. Maybe Spencer should have warned Blake of Garcia's idea of a fun night. Then again, he wouldn't be able to experience the hilarity this morning. In addition, it was all about the team bonding.

He tipped his head back, making sure that Hotch's door was still firmly closed, before making eye contact with Blake and tipping his head towards the break room. Thankfully, she took the hint and sought solace there. Plausible deniability. If Hotch asked, she had been there early. Early than everyone else that was, not that he would notice it. Hopefully.

JJ came creeping in next, thermos clutched firmly in one hand. She too resembled a living zombie. She crept into the bullpen, freezing in place briefly as she eyed the clock on the far wall. Gulping, she glanced at the still shut office door and practically raced to her desk, trying to reach it before Hotch noticed that she was late. Again. Unlike Blake, JJ did not have the excuse of being new to the team's routine to escape the wrath of Hotch for being late. And also, unlike Blake, JJ appeared to still being wearing last night's party clothes. Wonder how long it would take her to realize?

"JJ!" Oh, the voice of doom. Spencer quickly took his feet off his desk and hunched over the file, attempting to look highly busy. "Yes,sir?" A whispered question, followed by a hand to her throbbing head when the voice manifested again, this time much closer. Close as in, right behind JJ's shoulder at her aforementioned desk. Too bad she lost the office in the dreaded transfer to and from the Department of Defense. Spencer would bet anything that she was wishing for that enclosed space at this very moment.

"I thought we had this discussion," came the Voice, accompanied by, Spencer was sure, the Glare of doom. He couldn't help but notice that although JJ was turned away, she wilting even further under the Glare's power. Spencer watched the blonde head come to rest gently on the desk. "We did, sir," JJ stated, accompanying that with a slight moan as Hotch loomed ever closer. "Then I don't see the need to remind you that clocks exist for a reason." "No, sir."

A pause and Hotch was moving. Spencer brought the file up to his nose, hoping to avoid suspicion. He cursed to himself briefly when he realized that there had been footsteps, but they had stopped squarely in front of his desk. Spencer lowered the folder and met a set of very not amused eyes. Spencer briefly thought about holding out, waiting until something else came along as a distraction, but five seconds of holding his gaze and he was spilling his guts.

"Blake is in the breakroom, she was almost on time. I haven't seen Morgan or Garcia yet, but it stands to reason that they both are recovering on Garcia's traditional night out. Though I don't see why it would be classified as a girl's night out if Morgan was invited, unless he was some type of entertainment ,maybe? Judging from previous incidents, Morgan and Garcia will arrive together, most likely in the next five to ten minutes, however that time frame might be slightly inaccurate since you are in the bullpen. Previous studies were conducted when you we-"

"Reid, breathe."

Spencer paused and took a breath. Damn. No matter how many years he'd been in the BAU, Hotch still had the power to make him ramble with just a look. It was slightly embarrassing, though, that sometimes he didn't even require a look. Sometimes Hotch just needed to be in the room.

"Actually, I didn't come for the precise location of the rest of the team. Though I can tell when two of them are ATTEMPTING TO SNEAK INTO THE BREAKROOM BEHIND MY BACK," Hotch finished loudly. Behind him, Morgan and Garcia paused midstep, fear flashing briefly in their faces. And really, Reid gave himself a mental pat on the back for deciphering that, considering the fact that they were both wearing sunglasses that obscured a good portion of their features. Spencer gave them a look of profound sympathy as they carefully eased into their nearby chairs.

"I came to notify you that we will be heading out on a custodial interview shortly, after everyone else has received their assignments. It will be an overnight assignment, so I suggest you grab your go-bag." Spencer nodded and shot out of the chair, headed for the locker room. Never was he so glad to escape the bullpen. It was all fun and games, until someone got caught. He wondered how much of his friends would be left over once Hotch got through with them. First thing you learned in the BAU, even before the code to enter the secured area, was that you never showed up late on a Monday.

Maryland….Later

Spencer eyed the prisoner cuffed to the table doubtfully. There was no clear motive for the serial killer to give them any information. True they had both been involved in his eventual capture, but they had been two among a team of many and to request them by name was just odd.

"Why are we here, Morland?"

Thomas Morland. 28. Killed fifteen women in two years, across several local jurisdictions. BAU called in after the body of the twelfth was discovered. A merry chase across county lines for over two weeks before they finally narrowed down his hunting ground. Caught red-handed attempting to disembowel the fifteenth. Spencer could vividly remember the look in her eyes as she died on that concrete floor of that warehouse.

The predator smirked and lean forwards, mirroring Hotch's position across the table, letting his long hair hang in his eyes as he answered. "I thought it only fair to speak to two of my most favorite FBI agents before my appeal."

After a very lengthy trial, Morland had been given the death penalty. He was set for his first appeal hearing next week.

"Why?" Despite Morland's subtle attempt to goad the other, Hotch maintained both his position and eye contact. Behind them, a guard shifted against the wall, already bored with the situation. After their last custodial, they always took extra precautions.

"Well, I thought it only fair to warn you. After all, you did such fantastic work before," the man drawled, keeping a firm smirk on his face.

A long silence, broken only by the guard's fidgeting. Hotch waited until Morland looked away before he stood and started towards the door. "Reid." A command. Obediently, Spencer turned away.

"Wait!" Spencer paused for a brief moment, waiting for Hotch to turn around to address Morland. When he didn't Spencer turned his head slightly. "We do not have all day to cater to your every whim, Mr. Morland. Either give us whatever information you have or we will leave."

Short, to the point. Spencer felt the approval radiating from Hotch, though his superior wouldn't voice it.

"Alright, alright," came the expected mumble. They almost always folded. "But I'll talk to you, not the other one. He takes the fun out of everything."

Spencer took the seat across from Morland, taking the time to adjust the sleeves of his shirt, folding them up to make him appear younger. More approachable. Though it hardly seemed necessary since Morland clearly already preferred him to Hotch.

Spencer tilted his head to the side as he considered the man. Behind him, Hotch loomed against the far wall, steady and watchful. As always.

"There weren't only fifteen."

Ah. They had suspected something like this to occur. It was a common ploy used by those on death row. Confess to additional murders in several locations and force an additional investigation, along with an additional sentencing. Smart move. Typically. Though, Morland had no real need to utilize it so early in the game. He had quite some time before it would be his turn.

"Oh? How many were there than?" Spencer led him on. They had spent a considerable amount of effort to come down here, they might as well make it worth it.

"Three more."

"When did you kill them?"

"Before you found the twelfth."

"Where did you kill them?"

"Same as the others."

It was rehearsed. He had most likely been working on the story for some time. Spencer kept working through the standard line of questions, watching every cue the man gave. Finally, he leaned back, giving Morland a considering look. "You're lying,"

Morland flushed red and slammed his hand down on the table. Spencer didn't blink. He was used to scare tactics at this point in the game and had actually been expecting it. He felt rather than heard Hotch move forward, taking the seat next to him.

"Don't even try to protest it," Hotch stated. "We've examined every inch of your life. And do you know what we discovered? You crave attention. Crave recognition for your deeds. You would never hide your kills for several years. In addition, we searched every inch of your dump site and we are highly certain that there are no more bodies. In short, this has been a massive waste of time. Enjoy your court date next week."

They made their way out of the interview room, leaving one highly angry serial killer behind them. Within twenty minutes they were out of the prison and in the Bureau supplied SUV. As Hotch pulled out of the parking lot, Spencer gave the other a considering look. "I can't help but think that he had an ulterior motive."

"He did."

"What was it then? For the life of me, I couldn't figure it out."

Dark eyes glanced his way before returning to the road. "I admit I didn't discover the reason until partly through the interview. He wanted to see you again, Reid."

Spencer blinked. "Why?"

"He found you highly attractive."

"Oh." A pause. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. You are one attractive person, Reid. You shouldn't be surprised when someone decides to make a pass at you."

Spencer sat stunned. Both at the reason for the interview and because it sounded as if his boss had just made a pass at him. The rest of the trip was very quiet.

End.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

There was a spider in his kitchen sink. Spencer eyed it thoughtfully, holding both an empty bowl and mug. It had not been there the last time he used the sink, approximately 2 days, 12 hours and sixteen minutes ago. Clearly, with the approach of winter the spider had decided to seek warmer lodgings. He was not too sure of its' selection considering the lack of insulation in his one room apartment.

Setting both dishes down, Spencer carefully picked the spider up, making sure to cup it between both hands as he went to place it onto his balcony. It was not much of one, the railing twisted and rusting, but it was a balcony. And although Spencer would never step on it, for fear of falling to his death, at least he had a clear view across the city.

Leaning against the door, he eyed the expansive view, content to just stand still and enjoy his thoughts. It was a position he often took after days at the office. Neither the time of day nor the type of weather would prevent him. It was a comforting ritual. Though he did hate being caught in a routine.

It was late and ideally he should have been sleeping like most other people in this time zone, but Spencer found himself wide awake. Again. Normally, this would be due to an interesting article, show or in some very rare cases, the tail end of a convention, however this time it was due to troubling thoughts.

Hotch had made a pass at him. Hotch. Mr. Strict Upbringing Himself. It was disturbing on more than one level, considering the fact that as far as he was aware, Hotch had always been straight. Granted, there was a significant amount of people that were attracted to more than one gender, but Spencer had never even given a thought to Hotch being one of them. It was disturbing, but it was flattering as well.

He was used to being the brightest one in the room. The tallest. The skinniest. The most socially awkward. So, it was with a great amount of surprise that someone would consider him attractive. Almost 31 years old and he'd had only a few very specific people that had even showed a hint of an interest, and even then, it had not lasted long. If at all. Why now? Why him? Last he had heard Hotch had been involved with a very nice woman. There seemed to be no rational basis for this sudden change in direction.

This was unusual. He was confused. He did not like the feeling.

He abandoned his lonely dishes to the sink and crawled into bed. A queen. Not that he needed one, but after several years of sleeping in a twin, it had felt extravagant to be able to stretch his frame across the bed at any number of angles and not reach the edge. It took some time to settle, especially with thoughts of Hotch running through his head. Finally, sometime after 0200 and before o'dark thirty he fell asleep.

Midafternoon-Later the same day

"Whatcha doing?"

Startled, Spencer's eyes flew open and he jerked his head up. Belatedly, he realized that the latter action was not a wise one, as he had previously been propping his chair back on its two hind legs.

"Scared you, didn't I?" The sound of the smirk was all too obvious. Rubbing his side, Spencer glared at his tormentor from the floor. And yes, it was certain; Morgan was smirking for all he was worth, with a giant toothy grin to accompany it. He resisted the urge to scowl. It was unprofessional.

"I know, I know. It's because I'm intimidating right? Because I'm so fantastic in every way?" Oh, that was too much. Heaving himself off the floor, Spencer ran a hand through his hair, giving Morgan a glare.

"What exactly do you want?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing, Pretty Boy. You. All alone. In the bullpen."

"I'm not all alone!"

"Wiling away the hours by yourself, slogging through menial task after menial task."

"They are NOT menial!"

"With no one to help you."

"I don't need help!"

"With no one for you to help."

"That's not true! I help pl-….Oh, I see." He plopped down in his chair; scowl fading away to be replaced by a grin. "You came down here to get me to do paperwork."

"Now, that's not true!"

Spencer glanced at his watch. "Quarter after four, sounds pretty true to me."

"Now that's not fair!"

"What? Sounds pretty fair to me."

"And after I came all the way down here to see you."

"You walked down six steps."

"And down a hall."

"True."

"Just to see a friend."

"To beg a favor."

"And to wake him up before boss man comes around the corner after his big budget meeting and crushes the BAU's darling genius into a pulp."

Spencer paused. "What do you need help with again?"

Morgan grinned even wider. If that was possible. Seriously, the man's smile could be related to that of a crocodile. "Follow me, my minion," he gestured towards the row of offices.

Spencer sighed.

Early Evening

"Finally! Thought we would never finish."

"You mean, you thought I would never finish."

"Same difference."

Spencer shoved Morgan's shoes off the desk, grinning slightly when he heard the immediate protest. "To you maybe. To me it appears as if you owe me coffee."

"Okay."

"For the next week."

"That's a little much!"

"Not how I see it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I could easily make these files…disappear….if you don't pay up."

Morgan scowled. "Fine."

Spencer grinned. "Thought so."

"Now, if you two children are done playing…." Both men jumped, startled at the sudden appearance of their boss, who did not seem thrilled. "I suggest that you go home. We have an early start tomorrow."

Spencer swallowed slightly, aware of the slight flush in his face at the presence of Hotch. "We do?" he asked in a slightly higher pitch than normal. Morgan gave him an odd look but he willfully ignored it.

"Yes, local consult. We'll be leaving at eight."

"Right. Thanks for the notice."

"No problem," Hotch finished. He turned as if to head out, but paused when he caught sight of the reports. "Are those all complete, Morgan?"

"Ye- …Um, yes," Morgan stated with a clearing of his throat. "All complete. All by my lonesome. No help needed, whatsoever."

"Mmhmmm." A pause. "Reid, I hope you made him pay for the assistance. I happen to know that a few of those were delinquent reports."

"Yes, sir."

"Have a good night."

The door shut behind him. Both men started at each other. "Is it just me or does he have some mad ninja skills?"

"I think it's just you."

"But you do agree? He was pretty sneaky."

"I'll give you that much."

"Hah!"

"As long as you remember the coffee. And I'll need it by eight. You might want to set your alarm."

"Damn."

End.


End file.
